


Hermathena

by yorkisms



Category: Lazer Team (2015)
Genre: M/M, alternating pov, backstory fic, football and football references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9346118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yorkisms/pseuds/yorkisms
Summary: "Hermathena or Hermathene (Ancient Greek: Ἑρμαθήνη) was a composite statue, or rather a herm, which may have been a terminal bust or a Janus-like bust, representing the Greek gods Hermes and Athena...It was natural to see these two deities unified or fused as one form: the Greek god Hermes presided over eloquence, the goddess Athena over crafts and the sciences."Or: Their stories could be told apart, but the thing is, they're so tangled in each other that to properly weave a pattern of truth, both need to be taken at once, like two sides of the same coin.It's too bad Anthony Hagan and Herman Mendoza don't know how much they need each other.





	1. Athene // ...Koryphagenês

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this just now and I'm so excited to get into this fic that I had to post it now, today, immediately. 
> 
> So I did.
> 
> On to the next adventure, I guess. Excelsior!
> 
> Like in my Zach fic, Maimakterion, the chapters will be titles of gods (in this case, Athena/Athene and Hermes) that relate to the content of the chapter. However, in this version the titles will be preceded with a name so people can tell whose chapter it is. 
> 
> Happy reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Κορυφαγενης  
> Transliteration: Koryphagenês  
> Latin Spelling: Coryphagenes  
> Translation: ...born of the head

"Is this entirely necessary?" 

"Concerns have been presented about the team's mental state." 

Hagan sighs.

"I doubt you'll find anything substantial, at least for my part."

"But you're going to cooperate."

"Yes."

There's a beat of pure observation, here, and Hagan flexes his shield hand with nerves. 

"Where am I supposed to start?" 

"As I always say," the psychologist says, voice for the most part toneless. 

"Go all the way back. As far as you can recall, anyhow." 

"I don't think there's anything very interesting in going back all the way," Hagan comments. 

"There's- well. As Herman would start a story..."

-

Anthony Hagan was not born so much as he fell out. 

A lot of babies on the planet earth are born in this way, and if you're one of them you can make a good life of it, and there's not a lot of shame in it.

Hagan was born into decent conditions, a middle class family in the late 1970s, but closer to the early 1980s. It was summer. The Milford public pool was closed that day because a kid peed. 

This is a story Hagan knows because before his mother's water broke, both his parents passed by the pool in the course of their day, and they saw some of the teenage lifeguards cleaning. 

All in all- an uneventful, clean birth, although, how many are eventful.

And unlike some of his- associates, Hagan was a normal kid, if not curious. 

Although, he wasn't curious in the manner of one Zach Spencer, who longed to explore all things with his every sense. 

It was a late-summer afternoon of nineteen eighty-two when his family made that discovery. 

Down the hall from his room, which after a while no longer had a gate across the door, was a guest room which was stocked with various books that over the years his parents had given up on reading, or already read and kept for whatever reason. 

He had expressed some curiosity towards the book room before, and now that he was relatively unsupervised, he finds it no big issue to approach the room and grab one of the books sitting on the floor, messing with the cover before opening it. 

It's not like he can make much sense of it, it's an adult book and up until now he's only been reading simple stories. 

But it satisfies some of his curiosity to be here and know that there's all these...books.

Maybe, he thinks, he can figure these out soon. 

After a while, he feels the sun move its position through the window some, but it feels like a short time. Either way, he recognizes some of the words, and wonders at what they mean all together. 

His mom enters, and he looks up.

"Come on."

He's picked up, and the book is put back, and he doesn't protest too much. 

\- 

"Inquisitive." 

"I guess I was." 

"You never capitalized on being a natural learner?"

The psychologist writes something down, probably a note on how Hagan almost shrinks back at that statement. 

"College wasn't an option." 

"Outside of your- situation?" 

"I mean monetarily," Hagan replies icily. "Nothing else." 

"My apologies." 

"So no, I did not go to college."

"Community college-?"

"It wasn't as much of an option at the time as it is today. Besides," his tone grows slightly hard again, "As you said. I had a...situation. It wasn't ideal, but I had to make do." 

"So you consider yourself adaptable." 

"I consider myself good at surviving, yes." 

"You're still offended by my comment on your ex-wife and daughter."

"Did you need a degree to tell you that?" 

"Why is that, then?"

"I resent the implication that they're a situation rather than that people who I had a moral obligation to be there for. The fact that Marina and I divorced is- irrelevant-- at the time I had no other choice."

"In technicality-" 

"As if I would have made another one."

"So you don't have regrets?" 

"I have regrets. But there's nothing I can do to change what I've already done. All I can do is try and prevent more damage." 

"Hmm." 

Hagan sighs. He supposes he has to own up to his mistakes, now, or at least his one outstanding social faux pas. 

The thing is that he's so used to such language being a value judgment on what he did, when who's to say what the person judging him would have done in his place? 

Possibly, the same as him.

"Sorry for- being a little-- harsh. You're not the first person to comment on...the state we were in at the time. Most people aren't taking an interest." 

"Your reaction was understandable." 

The psychologist taps his pencil on his clipboard. 

"You have regrets. Is one of those the 1997 state championship?" 

Hagan stiffens. 

"It's hard to talk about that without some sort of- context, for what I did."

"What you did, or what happened."

"What I did," Hagan repeats. "On a level, it was my fault-"

"But not an act of malice aforethought or with premeditation."

"Even if a crime occurs by accident, it's still a crime."

"We could debate philosophy for a long time," the psychologist points out.

"What I did."

"Very well, then." 

"Listen, you have to understand- I had known Herman for a long time."

"How old were you both when you first met?" 

Hagan pauses, thinking. It's a ways back, and the memories bring up a sense of...nostalgia. Affection. Truly, did he have no idea how much he missed Herman? Did he try and cut off that part of him so much? Ouch.

The thought is at least a little depressing to him.

"Probably...twelve, or thirteen, maybe. Close to starting high school, for sure."


	2. Hermes // Mêkhaniôtês

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Μηχανιωτης  
> Transliteration: Mêkhaniôtês  
> Latin Spelling: Mechaniotes  
> Translation: ...contriver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was worried my computer's internet was breaking down, but it turns out a hard reset fixed the problem and 0 writing was lost (thank god.) 
> 
> So here's the next chapter. Enjoy our first pov shift!

"Herman Mendoza."

"That's me," Herman says, lighting a cigarette. His feet are up on the table, heel-lights on the boots pulsing softly blue. 

"I thought those weren't allowed in here."

"They're only not allowed if you're a pussy."

"That's...a point of view, certainly." 

Herman exhales, blowing an expert smoke ring. His expression doesn't change, but in his eyes he seems pretty pleased that he pulled it off. God knows where he got those cigarettes too. (Herman knows. DETIA doesn't strip-search, and he's got pockets in all his boxers for situations like these.)

(He had far too much free time before this whole lazer team business, probably)

"I was informed you were trying to quit."

"Trying doesn't mean quitting," Herman points out. "Yeah, I've reduced how much I gotta smoke a day, but I ain't quitting quite yet. Let's take that pain one step at a time." 

"Fair." 

"Besides, I can have one for stress." 

"Also fair."

Herman shakes ash off his cigarette. "Anyway. You're here to ask me about my 'mental health' and whatnot? Yeah? That's what the kid said." 

"Well, yes, for the purpose of addressing concerns raised after the battle against the worg-"

"Yeah, whatever." 

"I'd like to remind you that this is a mandatory examination. Mental health is just as important as physical, although I'm sure the medics will be pleased that you're reducing your smoking."

"What-ever, man." 

"And the drinking?" 

"I'm not quitting that. I don't think any of us are."

"Hm." The psychologist makes a note. "So, Mr. Mendoza. Tell me about yourself."

"Fuck," Herman sighs. "Shit's not that interesting. Except-nah, I can't start there." 

-

Herman Mendoza was born to a small, affectionate, close-knit family. 

There's nothing in the terms of affection or attention that he could have ever wanted for, and that was fortunate. 

As for the earliest story he can remember...it's from the fall of nineteen eighty-three, he thinks, or maybe nineteen eighty-four- whatever the case may be, it was after the advent of the CD. 

Herman's childhood home (the place he owned now) was a vibrant place, in his memory. Full of music. 

He remembers watching his mother cook from the dining room, where he was sitting at the table occupying himself with coloring books. He didn't color so much as scribble around, but it was the entertainment value that counted, really.

He remembers very distinctly sitting there, the late afternoon sun filtering through the window with some dust in the sunbeams. 

He remembers hearing the opening beats on the radio, and he looks up when his mother laughs happily. 

"Ooh, this is a good song!" 

Her hands are still busy, but she begins shaking her hips. Herman can't help but giggle.

His mother notices that he's entertained, and she begins to sing along, which entertains him even more. 

"Shareef don't like it,

Rock the Casbah, rock the Casbah-"

Herman's face splits into a grin and he puts down the crayon he was holding. 

"Shareef don't like it-  
Rock the Casbah, rock the Casbah."

His mother puts down what she was holding (he can't see it) and wipes off her hands. She pulls her curly hair (like his own) out of the messy ponytail it was in, and picks him up. 

"The local guitar picker got his guitar-picking thumb  
As soon as the Shareef had cleared the square  
They began to waaaail." 

Herman laughs. 

-

"So you had a good relationship with your mother." 

"I had a great relationship with my parents," Herman says casually, "To get rid of any of your assumptions. All psychologists think if you've got a problem or two it's your parents' fault." 

"That's...a rather Freudian interpretation, but it's a position some take." 

"Well, I didn't always get along with my parents, but they were good parents." 

"And where are they now?" 

Herman raises his eyes slightly, in a challenging manner, and taps his half a cigarette on the end of the table. 

"The cemetery at Milford Presbyterian."

"My apologies." 

"Mom had early-onset dementia," Herman says, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Started about two-thousand. Not too long aft'r she went, dad had a stroke." 

"That sounds very difficult." 

Herman snorts softly. "You have no idea." 

"Did she remember the 1997 championship?"

Herman's face immediately changes to a scowl.

"Fine. You wanna talk about that, let's talk about it. Maybe I became the town asshole after that, and fine, but you have to understand what happened to me."

"What Hagan did to you?" 

"What happened to me." Herman blows out smoke. "I didn't want to see this at the time, but it wasn't anyone's _fault_. Just some damn bad luck. A whole lot of bad luck."

"Hm."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, please continue."

"Fine. Well, I had known Tony for a long-ass time."

"-Tony?"

"Hagan. Tony. You know what I mean." Herman accompanies this statement with a knowing glare. 

Thank you very much, but the name Tony was his to use. No one else's. 

Anyone could play dumb to it, but everyone knew. 

"Y'all know his first name." 

"Go on."

"We met in about middle school. 'fore all this football garbage."


	3. Athena // Xenia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Ξενια  
> Transliteration: Xenia  
> Latin Spelling: Xenia  
> Translation: ...of hospitality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one just...hit a block halfway through and took me all day to finish. 
> 
> But I would not be slowed! I would not be stayed! I forge onwards to finishing this. Maybe one day I'll have written enough shinguards, but today is not that day.

"-were you doing football at the time? When you met Herman?" 

"Well, yes, we both were, but for me it wasn't really that important. But Herman was already a pretty ambitious kid- and why wouldn't he be, he was a great player." 

"That's what I'm told." 

"The Milford high varsity team is, uh, pretty competitive. You don't get in unless you've been playing for a while. Hasn't produced any champions, unfortunately-"

"--no thanks to both of its best players having...other problems." 

Hagan flinches slightly. 

"We don't have to talk about that, yet."

"Go on." 

"-but when we first met, it wasn't important, anyway."

"How did you meet?" 

"It was, uh, fall I'm pretty sure?"

- 

Milford Middle School was big enough that not everyone was friends with everyone, but small enough that everyone knew of everyone.

To tell the truth, Hagan had crossed paths once or twice with Herman before they properly met. They hadn't really talked, but such was life. 

And in fact, they met by pure coincidence. 

It was late fall, truthfully, and mid-afternoon. Hagan was sitting in class- math class, actually, which was a decent subject for him. 

"Anthony, can you do me a favor?" 

Hagan looks up and over at the teacher's desk.

"Yes ma'am."

The teacher sighs- she's never been one that Hagan quite likes, something about her rubs him the wrong way. 

"Since I assume you're close to done with the classwork, as usual-"

"I am." 

"Could you please help Herman focus?" 

Hagan blinks. "O...Of course, ma'am."

Hagan spins in his chair and makes eye contact with Herman, who has his feet up on the desk. Herman shrugs, and Hagan can't help but swallow nervously because this is kind of awkward. 

Nevertheless, Hagan decides to be resolute and grabs a chair. 

"I, um-" 

Herman waves a hand. "Man, you don't have to do anything, it's not that hard."

"Then wh-"

"She sent you over here so I'd stop being irritating to her is all. I decided not to tell her I'm already done." 

"So I don't need to-" 

"Don't get up," Herman says, almost hurt, and Hagan for the rest of his life isn't sure why he stays seated. 

"I'm Herman." 

"Anthony." 

"Nice t'meet you. You play football, right?" 

"Yep."

"Ah, cool, cool. Are you thinking of trying out for the Milford High team next year?"

Hagan shifts in place. "I dunno. It's really a lot of money and effort and-" 

"Man, just try it. Come on. What's it gonna hurt?"

"I guess nothing, but-"

"And it pays for college by itself..."

"That's true," Hagan muses. "I mean- I guess I could--"

"That's the spirit," Herman says with a grin. "You got a ton of homework today?" 

"Not really, nah." 

"Wanna get burgers?"

"...sounds nice, yeah."

Herman grins, spinning his pencil on his fingers. 

"I know a place in downtown Milford that makes pretty good ones." 

-

"And that's how you met?" 

"We just, you know, clicked." 

"Mhm."

"We both knew people around town before, but after that, we were inseparable."

"That, everyone knows." 

Hagan laughs softly with nostalgia laced into his tone. 

"He was my best friend." 

"Is that what you were?" 

"Well, yeah. We did everything together."

"As you said, inseparable." 

"Pretty much."

"But you were-"

"We're not ready for that yet," Hagan interrupts, his voice lower. "It was...we had known each other for five years before that. You have to understand, I was his best friend of five years and I failed-"

"It wasn't a failure so much as an acci-"

"An accident."

Hagan sighs. 

"I spent the first few years telling myself that. It was an accident. There wasn't much I could have done. Every night I thought about what happened, and what I could have done, and every way I could have made it better." 

He sighs.

"And then I would remember that I'm not in the world where I moved half a foot to the right, or turned around faster, or- anything. I'm in this one. Where I didn't. And it's my fault that I didn't." 

"So your inaction was the inciting incident...not the fact that the opposing team member was the one who took the physical action?"

"If I had blocked, we wouldn't be talking."

"If you had blocked," the psychologist says, "We might not be alive." 

Hagan sighs. 

"Let me tell a happier story before we talk about this more. I don't want to think about what could have happened. I've done that enough."

"Go on, then."

Hagan pauses, thinking, then his eyes light up. 

"I remember when I met my ex-wife. Sophomore year of high school. She was a cheerleader, you know. Like Mindy." 

"Was that a conscious choice?" 

"I don't know, it was her choice to try out in middle school-- Mindy's choice, I mean." 

"And you supported her." 

"Of course. She wanted it, so I got her everything she needed and told her to go for it. She's good at it, too, one of the most athletic on the squad."

"What was your ex-wife's name, again?"

"Marina. Marina MacArthur."

"Tell me about her."

"Marina is-- an interesting woman."


	4. Hermes // Poikilomêtês

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Ποικιλομητης  
> Transliteration: Poikilomêtês  
> Latin Spelling: Poecilometes  
> Translation: ...full of many wiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I...hit a complete road block on this one for about a week, then I got inspiration the place I normally get inspired:
> 
> In a class. 
> 
> (Yeah, I'm back at school.
> 
> Yeah, I just wrote this in class.)

"-our middle school math teacher was a real bitch. A right cunt, as Woody would say." Herman delivers the quotation in a mocking accent.

"How so?" 

"If you didn't do things her way, you were wrong. If you didn't act the way she wanted you to act, you were wrong. I jus' told you about my parents? Man, they taught me to never like a bully." 

"And you perceived her as such."

"Hell yeah I did! She was always a total bitch, especially to the chicks."

"How so?" 

"Any girl wore anything but a skirt. She'd slam 'em! Lower grades, extra questions in class, callin' them out for stuff they didn't do- of course I wanted to make her life hell!" 

"Is that what you were doing the day you met Hagan?" 

"Well, no, not at that exact moment..."

-

At that exact moment, in fact, Herman had just finished the work and was getting ready to make the teacher's life hell. 

Actually, looking back he suspects she was trying to block him, but it's a block he can't even be mad at because, well, he met Hagan out of it, didn't he? 

Herman isn't sure what compels him to say- 

"Don't get up."

And then they chat, and Hagan seems nice enough, and something about the guy has the words spilling out of Herman's mouth-

"Wanna get burgers?"

"...sounds nice, yeah."

-

Herman finds out at the burger place that it's actually easy to make this guy laugh. 

"-you what?"

"You heard me! Yeah, she got back and asked where the carrot cake was and I had to shrug and be like 'oooh, uh, I dunno'! I think she suspected it was me and she's had it out for me ever since."

"You pounded it down a toilet in under five minutes..."

"A school toilet, thank you."

"No evidence?" 

"They can't prove it was me!"

Hagan laughs, hard, face buried in his milkshake. "That's so-- ballsy." 

"I don' like bullies, man, especially not when they get away with shit cause they're above te rest of us." 

"That's- very-- moral, of you." 

"I dunno if I would call it moral." 

"Well, it's upstanding, at least." 

"You big nerd." 

"Excuse me if I'm interested in school-" 

"It's not the most important thing in life, Tony!" 

Herman remembers how Hagan stiffened at that sentence, his face turning red. It took Herman weeks to untangle how that made his heart beat faster and faster. 

"I- uh-"

"...what," Herman manages with a playful grin, "Has no one ever called you by a nickname?" 

"No," Hagan manages, looking down slightly. "Everyone just says Anthony-"

"Well, I think we oughta rebrand that shit. Tony sounds way less formal." 

"You mean better." 

"I'm not putting words in your mouth!" 

Hagan snorts softly. "It does. Sound better." 

That pleases Herman, who takes a bite of his burger. 

"Good. Why the hell would anyone say anything else? Jus' sounds too fancy. You're like, what, fourteen?"

"Fourteen." 

"Exactly. What kind of fourteen year old goes by Anthony?"

"I do."

"Well, you did."

"You're right, you're right, I'm sorry." 

Herman laughs. 

"Are you gonna be at practice tomorrow?" 

"Yeah." 

"You play offense, right?"

"Mhm."

"Hey, me too. You think you wanna hang again after practice tomorrow?" 

"For what?"

"I dunno, maybe a movie." 

"That-- well, let me know what time, but that sounds- nice." 

Herman is positive this guy is going to be the death of him. 

(And Hagan is, but not in the way he expects.)

-

"And why did you feel like you said you did?"

"What?" 

"When you said you felt anxious-" 

"Nah, man, it wasn't anxious." 

"What was it, then?"

Herman sighs. 

"Do you want me to open Pandora's Box, here?" 

"I have to remind you that what you say is confidential and-"

"-will only be shared with DETIA at every level?"

"No. My orders are to summarize my findings and report them, and I could find this statement completely irrelevant to my report."

"Fine." 

"You seem to know exactly what you were thinking." 

"Feeling."

"Feeling, then."

"Yeah, I know. Never felt it with another person in my life." 

"Yes?" 

"Love." 

"Love, as in..."

"As in love. I mean, that was like puppy love, I guess. You know. Developing a crush on a guy."

"And then you started hanging out more, and..." 

"I thought he felt the same." 

"It seems-"

"It seems he didn't," Herman snaps. "That's fine. Having to get along with that girl was hard enough."

"You mean Marina MacArthur." 

"Yes, I mean Marina MacArthur." 

"So you didn't get along with her."

"She never liked me. I couldn't tell if she knew I liked the guy, or if she just hated me, or if she was a little racist, but I hated her."

"Jealousy?"

"Yeah. I didn't wanna say that, but yeah. It was Milford in the 90s, Milford in the 2010s is bad enough. How am I supposed to say to a guy I'm jealous of your girlfriend, I wanna ruin our friendship, fuckin' kiss me." 

"I understand."

"So yes, I never liked her. I'm not surprised that they divorced. I don't even know how they got married in the first place."


	5. Athena // Parthenos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Παρθενος  
> Transliteration: Parthenos   
> Latin Spelling: Parthenus  
> Translation: ...virgin, maiden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Hey. Guess who's the idiot who was getting back into this, then forgot to post this chapter, then remembered on the Lazer Team anniversary that they weren't updating their fuckening fic.
> 
> It's me.
> 
> Happy one year of lazer team.

"How is she interesting." 

"It's hard to explain. She's always been very... type A."

"So, controlling."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Hagan says, clearly uncomfortable with that being said.

"She likes to think she's right about most things, and things should definitely be done her way."

"How did you meet her- and why did you start dating?"

"We dated for, um, maybe a year or two, off and on, before getting married."

"And did you get married because of-" 

"Yes, because she was pregnant. It doesn't matter."

"Does Mindy kn-"

"She can suspect all she wants," Hagan says flatly. "I am not going to hurt her by saying that. It doesn't matter." 

"Keep going."

"So how did you meet."

"How does anyone in Milford meet? Football."

-

It was at a game, in fact. Milford was on defense, meaning that Herman was leaning overdramatically on Hagan's side complaining about how he (allegedly) carries the team. 

"I mean, seriously, have you seen our defense against Ruby Lakes' offense? We'd get crushed if I didn't- Tony?"

Herman sits up. "You're staring at the cheerleaders. You sure you're not, I'unno, concussed or something?"

Hagan shoves him gently as if to say shut up.

"Who's the stunt girl?" 

"Huh?" 

"You know, the girl doing the stunts now. I thought Katie used to stunt."

"Oh, Katie moved to Phoenix. Guess they replaced her." 

"What's her name?" 

"Huh?"

"New girl. What's her name?" 

"Don' look at me, I'm popular, not all-knowing!" Herman pauses. "...you think she's hot."

"What?" 

"You heard me," Herman says, and looking back Hagan can fool himself into thinking he hears a note of jealousy when Herman repeats himself. 

"You think she's hot."

"Maybe a bit," Hagan finds himself admitting, "But I barely know her, I don't even know her name-" 

"If you think she's so hot go talk to her." 

(Is that bitterness? Hagan can't tell. He can't tell no matter how many times he's thought of this.)

"She's busy, though-"

"When she's not busy, dumbshit."

"Fine," Hagan mutters, embarrassed. 

And then, when the cheer team is taking a break, he talks to her. He's nervous and awkward, and he can feel Herman watching them intently.

"You're new here, right?"

"Yeah." 

"I, um- noticed your performance just now and I thought I should say hi." he extends one hand, and she shakes, clearly flattered.

"Anthony Hagan." 

"Marina MacArthur."

"It's...nice to meet you. Um...are you busy? After the game? My friend-" (Hagan gestures to Herman) "-and I like to get burgers after games, do you...wanna come with us?" 

Marina seems surprised, then she smiles (deceivingly warm, Hagan thinks with the blessing of afterthought.) 

"Sure." 

(Hagan doesn't know this, but Herman does shoot the pair a jealous look and return his attention to the field.)

"How'd it go?" Herman asks, as soon as Hagan sits back down. Hagan is grinning.

"Her name's Marina MacArthur. I asked her to come with us for burgers after."

"Cool," Herman says, strained. 

"You're okay with that?"

"Of course!" (He's not.)

"She doesn't know a ton of people from around here, cause she just moved from Houston." 

"A city chick?" 

"Yeah. She says she's liking the small town stuff so far."

"Wanna take her to Wayne's?" 

"That's the-"

"The greasy 50s joint on Peregrine Street, yeah."

"I mean, sure. You pick every time, anyway-"

"Shut up, no I don't!"

"Uh, yes you do."

"You're a son of a bitch, Tony!"

"I'm a son of a bitch?"

"Yeah!"

"C'mere!"

They wrestle playfully for a few minutes before their coach blows a whistle. 

"Offense, let's go! Hagan! Mendoza! Quit your little lover's quarrel and get out there!" 

Herman has already crammed his helmet on, so Hagan can't see the face he makes. 

"Yessir!" 

-

"So that's how you met Miss MacArthur."

"Yes, it is."

"-she is still miss MacArthur, right?"

"Yeah, she, uh...took her maiden name back in the divorce." 

"Interesting."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well...that's a little uncommon." 

"I don't think it's that uncommon." Hagan shrugs. "I don't know how uncommon it is. But I don't have anything to say about it."

"Why not?"

"It's her name. And her business."

"So do you talk, still?"

"Only occasionally. When we see each other." 

"So your divorce was due to-" 

"We didn't get along, long-term."

"Despite having been together for so long?" 

"Yes. She...she was a more controlling parent, as well as a more controlling spouse, than I would have liked. For both myself and for Mindy." 

"So you dislike her?" 

Hagan sighs. "Yes, I do. But that doesn't mean that I won't be civil with her." 

"And so you were still playing football, at the time."

"Yeah, and everything was going-- fine. Better than fine. Perfect, actually. I had a best friend, a girlfriend- and we actually got along, at the time- and I was getting ready for college..."


	6. Hermes // Trikephalos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Τρικεφαλος  
> Transliteration: Trikephalos   
> Latin Spelling: Tricephalus  
> Transliteration: ...of intersections (the intersection of three roads)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I mentioned this on my tumblr, but for the moment this fic will be moved to Monday updates since I'm back in school. 
> 
> Extra updates will be at my discretion, but expect at least one per Monday. 
> 
> Part of the difficulty of this fic is, as I'm discovering, chapter titles are a bit of a bump, and I get distracted easily.
> 
> But this fic will finish. Believe you me.

"Marina. I hate that chick," Herman snarls. "Controlling possessive bitch."

"Why do you say that?"

"She was that bitch who was like-- you talkin to my boyfriend? You female? You try'na drag him off. She had her suspicions about ME!" 

"Did she ever say anything to you?"

"Nah man, never. But you've never seen one of Marina's goddamn awful ice queen glares. That girl hated anything that got near what's 'hers'. And I called her possessive, well, that bitch damn well thought anything she touched was hers."

"Or anyone?"

"Yeah. Anyone."

-

"Herman."

When Herman closes his locker, there is none other than Marina MacArthur leaning on the one next to him, in her cheer uniform, hair tied up with red and white ribbons. 

"What." 

Herman thinks it's a miracle that Hagan has never noticed they don't get along. Marina glares at him, frosty, and he glares right back, heated. 

"Anthony and I are going out tonight after the game. Alone." 

Herman feels his stomach twist with jealousy. That used to be their thing.

"Fine," Herman says, tonelessly, "What you two get up to ain't my business." 

Except it is his business, because he's head over heels in love with Hagan, and he hates this girl- not just because she's dating the guy he's crushed on for years, but because she acts like he's trying to get between them when in fact he's just trying to sit down and fall out of love. 

"Have fun." 

She seems surprised by that, and she flicks her pale green eyes over him. 

"We will."

"I don't doubt it." 

Marina pauses, then leans in and lowers her voice. 

"I don't know what y'all's deal is, but I do know this. I am dating him."

"What a great fuckin' job of detecting, Angela Lansbury. Really. Tell me how great you guys have it."

"Listen, smartass. You are jealous. And I don't need to fuckin' know why, because I don't care. But I do need you out of the fucking way. I get what I want, and what I want is to keep what I have." 

God, Herman hates this chick. Seriously. Why does she need to be like this. 

"Look, I already told you I don't care. Leave me the fuck alone, cause I'm not trying to take your throne. I ain't trying out for cheerleading, and I ain't trying to date your man." 

Herman almost chokes on the lie. But Marina glares, leans back, and backs down. 

"Fine. But I'm not gonna take my eyes off of you. I don't care if he oathed himself to you as your blood fuckin' brother. I don't like you. And that will never change." 

"Good to know that," Herman says flatly.

Marina snarls, and she stalks off. 

Herman sighs, clicking his combination lock into place. 

"I hate you too, Marina." 

"Herman." 

It's hard to repress how hearing his friend-cum-crush's voice makes Herman's heart beat a little faster.

"Hey, Tony!" 

"Was that Marina?" 

"Yeah, she had to get to class, though."

"Oh." Hagan seems a little disappointed by that, and Herman tries not to let his friendly smile fade.

"What'd she want?"

"To...tell me you two were havin' a hot date after the game."

"Oh! Oh, yeah. Sorry. I guess she knew I would have forgotten to tell you. Yeah, her family is having me over for a post-game small, uh...it's not really a party."

"Oh, cool. Have fun." 

We used to get dinner together, Herman thinks bitterly. And he knows Hagan well enough to know that the guy's family isn't that present, and he'd jump at the chance to get along with Marina's parents. 

Why is she so determined to take Hagan, Herman's best friend, as well as Hagan, his crush? 

"Thanks!" 

But fuck, Herman thinks, this boy smiles brightly when he's innocent and happy. 

Repressing is hard. Falling out of first love is hard. 

Being in love is easier. It takes less effort. Makes the moment brighter. 

So for the moment, Herman lets himself be in love. 

"You wanna grab lunch instead?" 

"Sure!"

-

"So you two were in a struggle for power."

"I guess you could say that."

"She knew you were jealous, and she disliked you, but she elected not to suspect that the root of your jealousy was-" 

"It was the 90s," Herman interrupts with a snort. "I don't think that would be anyone's first thought unless they themselves were." 

"So she thought you were a jealous friend." 

"I guess. Easier pill to swallow than me bein'-"

"She didn't like you, either way."

"Yeah." 

"So the big things in your life at that age- just prior to your accident- were your relationships with Mr Hagan and Miss MacArthur, and football." 

"Yeah, sure was. And football was the less shitty of the two."

"The two being-?"

"Dealing with Tony and Marina, or football." 

"Well, the records certainly indicate you had a stellar career. Offers were put in to you from multiple division one athletics schools."

"Don't I know it." 

"With money to boot."

"Yeah, I was gonna get out of this po-dunk little shithole- and maybe convince Tony that girl was a bitch, and tell him...of course, we all know that didn't work out."

"It...That's a way of putting it."

"And here I am, huh?"

"So what was playing like...before that particular incident."

"The best part of my week, when we were in season."


	7. Athene // Nikê

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Νικη  
> Transliteration: Nikê  
> Latin Spelling: Nicé  
> Translation: ...of victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, man. I had this yesterday, which is normally my sit down and write day. Then everything kicked me in the nuts.

"So you did plan on going to college."

"Yeah- football is good for that. It brings a lot of prestige, not just in Milford." 

"You received offers too?" 

"Yeah." Hagan pauses. "I would have decided on one after the championship. I thought no matter what happened, I had something to do with my life."

"But you didn't expect..." 

"None of the offers were rescinded, for me," Hagan says softly. "But I had to take care of Marina, and I couldn't...not after..."

"You would have felt guilty taking your friend's dream when he couldn't himself."

"Yeah." 

"Were you a good player?" 

"Good," Hagan says, souding ambivalent, "But not nearly as good as Herman."

-

"Another touchdown for Mendoza! This will be the Texas tornado's new record for scores in one game."

"That's right, if he makes one more touchdown, this will be a whole new height for the unstoppable Q-B out of Milford High." 

"That kid is movin' up in the world almost faster'n he runs!" 

"Tony!" Herman shouts. "Did you see that!" 

"Yes!" 

They high-five, and Herman fist-pumps shortly after. "Whoo! That's how you impress a talent scout."

"Talent scout?" Hagan looks at the crowd. "You sure?" 

"There's always one," Herman says confidently. "They're everywhere. You know that."

"In Milford?" 

"Well, yeah. Clearly they heard that Milford high has the best offense because its QB is crushing it with the help of his sick ass amazing blocker."

"Don't flatter me."

"Then I won't. You're the one who has my back." 

"You're flattering me. It's a team effort, Herman, it's not just me-"

"--and it's not just me either. Now shut up and continue to enable my carrying the team to an extremely dramatic and legendary victory."

"You're so dramatic." 

"Man, shut up and let me celebrate the fact that I'm getting out of this shithole." 

Hagan catches the eye of Marina, who is on the sidelines. She's doing something with the cheer squad, a red and white pom-pom in her right hand, and she winks at him.

He'd like to say it feels nice, but it doesn't sit quite right. 

"Doesn't mean I'm getting out with you."

"Man, shut up, I'm takin' you with me wherever I go whether you like it or not. I'll drag your ass all over the planet even if you don't go pro. As long as I've got a job, you've got a job." 

"I'm touched." 

"Asshole," Herman mutters, shoving Hagan, who snorts. 

"I'm the asshole?" 

"Well, you're certainly being a snarky motherfucker."

"Me? The snarky motherfucker in this realtionship? Where the fuck have you been living, Herman?"

"The world!" 

"Oh, yeah. Your world."

"Tony-!"

Herman shoves Hagan in the gut, and Hagan laughs, amused. 

"Ooh, that's a turnover in favor of Milford, looks like the offense is back out there!" 

"No rest for the weary," Herman says, before grabbing his helmet off the bench. 

"You ready, Tony?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be," Hagan says, putting his own helmet back on. 

"God, I hope they let me run," Herman comments, amused. "Why wouldn't they?"

"Because it's getting a little predictable. It's kind of your name." 

"Yeah, that's why no one suspects my arm." 

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Yeah," Herman says. "Let's go find out."

-

"You two were that close?"

"What do you mean?" 

"That Herman was willing to let you live with him no matter what- or so you thought."

"Yeah, we were that close. We pretty much already lived together anyway, the amount of time I spent at his house-"

"And why was that?"

"His house was better than mine," Hagan says, voice now stiffer. "His family was...nicer."

"Compared to yours?" 

"Yes. But not dramatically so."

"Clarify?" 

"My parents weren't bad people," Hagan says firmly. "They just weren't as-- involved as Herman's." 

"Did Herman's parents take an interest in you?" 

"Yes, very much so. I was sorry to hear about it when they died. I would have attended the funerals, but-"

"But Herman wouldn't have wanted you there?"

"Yes."

"So then, that takes us up to..."

Hagan sighs. 

"I guess I had to talk about it eventually."

"Go ahead."

"It was...February of 1997. About a year before Mindy was born."


	8. Hermes // Propylaios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Προπυλαιος  
> Transliteration: Proplyaios  
> Latin Spelling: Propylaeus  
> Translation: ...of gateways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally settled on a rhythm with this fic, and next chapter it ALL picks up. Finally. This one was rockier starting than I thought it would be!! 
> 
> Also, I'm now gonna be updating 2 chaptered fics for the next few days. Hopefully, I can bang out the rest of this (since I have it plotted) and focus on the other one.

"The Texas Tornado," Herman says, gesturing in an arc with one hand. "And I thought that was the most glory I'd ever have." 

"You were wrong."

"Debatable."

Herman leans back, his boots up on the table, and lights a fresh cigarette. 

"Those are still banned in here." 

"Sue me," Herman comments, "I can do what I fuckin' want with these lungs." 

"I technically don't have the authority to confiscate those, but I am required to ask you to put that out."

"I'm not gonna." 

"Well, I tried."

Herman snorts. 

"I first tried these in high school. I didn't use 'em as much because I was worried about staying fit." 

"And now?" 

"My body's not as important anymore. My lungs can rot." 

"But back then?" 

"Football was the most important thing in the world."

"Really?" 

"More important than anything but having Tony around."

Herman sighs. "I have no idea how-- I can't imagine that he didn't know how much I cared about him."

-

"Tony!" Herman shouts over the roar of the crowd. "Let me make this touchdown and I'll buy you the biggest burger I've ever seen and a six-pack of coors!" 

"You're on!" Hagan shouts back, flexing his hands. "I hope you're ready to lose a ton of money!" 

"I'm payin' you to block for me. So stop talking, and block!" 

Hagan widens his stance. 

"I'm gonna fuck you up after this." 

"I'd like to see you try."

Herman catches Hagan's flashed grin, and lowers himself into the appropriate position to catch the ball. 

The next minute or so passes in a blur, but an exhilerating one. 

And then the game is over (Milford destroys another opponent), and Hagan shoves Herman gently by the shoulder. 

"Do you wanna go out to the woods?"

"With the burger and coors I owe you, sure." 

"Give me a ride, then." 

Herman sighs. "My keys are in my sports bag. Keep up, Tony." 

"Hey, screw you."

-

Herman's car races through the yellow lights in the Milford streets. It doesn't matter at the moment, though, because he's said something, and Hagan is laughing, opening a can of beer they've borrowed from Herman's house, a bag of McDonald's in between the seats.

"I prefer doing this to going to the afterparty," Hagan says. Herman feels his face and chest burn.

"So do I."

Herman parks in the woods at the edge of Milford, and leaves the car radio on. He gets the roof down, then leans his chair back, and digs a cigarette box out of the center console. Hagan makes a face. 

"Herman. Gross." 

"What, I can take one for winning another game." 

"Put those back." 

"Alright, hall monitor. Beer is just as dangerous."

"No it's not."

"Hall monitor." 

"Jockstrap." 

Hagan cranks his seat back, so they're both lying down looking up at the stars. Music drifts faintly out of the radio. 

 _And the world only ends once in one_ life time  
 _These nights of the young last forever_  
 _Around and around, with the clearing smoke_  
 _These days drift away altogether..._

The only other sound is Hagan eating.

"Give me some of those fries, Tony."

"You said you didn't want anything."

"Well I do now. C'mon, hand em over."

For once, there's no argument.

-

"And that was your young life." 

"That was...less'n two weeks before the '97 championship, yep."

"So that's the next story."

Herman takes a breath in.

"Fine. You wanna hear about the accident."

"That has been what all this is leading up to, right?"

"Yeah," Herman says. "It is." 

"Go on, then."

Herman is silent for what feels like an eternity.

"I've told you enough about us durin' games for you to know that we both thought it was gonna be a plain old game. You know. We win or we lose. It wasn't...that wasn't the big deal, what mattered was how I played. And I was gonna play great, win at it, it was gonna be fine."

"It wasn't." 

"And I lost."


	9. Athene // Pallas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Παλλας  
> Transliteration: Pallas  
> Latin Spelling: Pallas  
> Translation: ...[killer of] Pallas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N.B. on the chapter title. 
> 
> This one's a little more complicated, but there was no other title I could use for this one.
> 
> There are 2x myths of Athena killing someone named Pallas. The one I'm referencing is Athena's accidental murder of her childhood friend Pallas- a more obscure one. 
> 
> "They say that after Athene's birth, she was reared by Triton, who had a daughter named Pallas. Both girls cultivated the military life, which once led them into contentious dispute. As Pallas was about to give Athene a whack, Zeus skittishly held out the aegis, so that she glanced up to protect herself, and thus was wounded by Athene and fell." 
> 
> -Pseudo-Apollodorus, 2nd Century AD.

"It started out normal. I guess every accident does. Sometimes you can see this stuff coming- that's what they told us in training- if it's something like a crime. But I didn't see anything." 

"Well, it was an accident." 

"I didn't even register that I had missed. At first. Then I turned around, and I heard the crack..." Hagan shudders. 

"It...lives with you."

-

Hagan is the first one over and at Herman's side, before the referees, before the medic, before even the guy who tackled in the first place. 

"Herman!" 

Herman clenches his jaw and pulls himself into a semi-seated position. "Get. Away." 

Hagan retracts one hand, surprised and hurt. 

"I..."

Before he can think of what to say, there's EMTs and the like separating them. Hagan walks back to the bench as fast as one can walk, and grabs his bag. 

Marina tries to talk to him, then. She's a few months pregnant, even though he doesn't know it at the time. 

"Anthony, what-" 

"I have to go with them," Hagan says, "To- to the hospital. Right now. I'll- fuck, I don't know. I'll stay there tonight." 

"Anthony..."

"Bye, Marina." 

Hagan pulls out his car keys and jogs after the EMTs. 

The field is almost completely silent. Marina drops her arms to her sides. 

"Fuck." 

She thinks everyone might be able to hear her, but she can't care.

\- 

Hagan follows the ambulance to the hospital, in a state of...well, a state of denial. This happens, right? Plenty of people get hurt. It doesn't have to be- but the noise-

Upon arriving at Milford General, Hagan parks, tries to steady himself, and then gets out of the car and locks it before vomiting in a trash can. Fortunately, nobody stops. He's not sure he wants pity right now. 

He washes his mouth out in the bathroom in the entryway, then finds his way to where he needs to be. 

"Are you immediate family?" the doctor asks, and Hagan wonders for an instant if he can lie about it then realizes he probably can't. It's Milford. 

"N-No, but I-" 

"I can't let you in right now." 

"Please," Hagan says, voice cracking slightly. "I have to know what's going on, I- he- he's my best friend, I can't just-" 

"We can't let you in right now." 

"Then I'm going to wait." 

"Go ahead." 

Hagan sits down outside the door to the room where they're doing...well, god knows what. He waits for what feels like forever, and then the door opens and he stands up. 

"What's going on," he demands, and he definitely feels like he's out of his depth. 

The nurse sighs. 

"He's not going to die, but-"

"W-Well obviously, but what?"

"He's torn some nerves in his leg, it looks like."

Hagan feels like someone removed his insides. "He'll never play again." 

"No. Definitely not." 

A million things are happening in Hagan's head right now, but none of them entail them losing each other, really. He's thinking that he has to stay here tonight, that he's going to be a good friend through all of this, that now he's definitely not going to college now. How could he leave Milford at a time like this? 

The nurse excuses herself, and he sits back down, and he waits. 

He waits up as long as he can, but it's getting late and he's just so...tired. 

In the morning, no one has come to get him yet. So he keeps waiting. He kept money in his athletics bag, as you do, which he uses to buy small amounts of food at the hospital canteen. And he waits. 

Midmorning, he runs into Herman's parents. 

"Can I see him yet?" 

Herman's parents exchange a look. 

"He doesn't want to see you." 

They sound apologetic, but it still stings anyway.

On the second morning, Marina shows up. She still has his jacket (he left it there, he supposes) and she pushes him to her car despite his tired and weak protests. 

"You need to sleep in a proper bed, Anthony." 

"But I need to see..." 

"If you haven't seen him by now, you're never going to."

"Mari, I-" 

"I'm taking you home. That's final."

He's too exhausted in every bone to offer anything more than weak verbal protest as she drags him out the door. 

"We have to deal with other things." 

"Mari..." 

"Now." 

-

"So you left." 

"Yeah."

It would take an extremely oblivious person not to notice the regret and emotion- bordering on crying- in Hagan's voice. 

"I should have stayed, but I- I was so tired..." 

"It's understandable," the psychologist says gently. "And he refused to see you."

"I don't know why he blamed me. It...it was my fault, but I wanted- have always wanted- to do anything I can to make things better."

"Maybe there isn't anything you can do." 

"That's bullshit," Hagan spits, before realizing, and swallowing. "Sorry." 

"Don't be. What do you mean?" 

"Nothing- or, well, I thought nothing- could fix the injury. But there's always a way we could make up. I just don't know what he wants from me."

"Think about it, and maybe something will come to you."


	10. Hermes // Kataibatês

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Καταιβατης  
> Transliteration: Kataibatês  
> Latin Spelling: Cataebates  
> Translation: ...descending [to the underworld]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this was a chapter title in Maimakterion. 
> 
> The greeks used several names for different gods. And it works both ways. So don't look at me.

"I don't remember a lot."

"That's fine." 

"I do remember a few things. I can tell you what I know." 

"That'll do." 

"They- y'know, say you don't remember stuff like that. I dunno, I remember putting the boots on perfectly. But there's so much I still couldn't tell you if you asked me about breaking my leg."

-

Herman barely remembers getting hit- actually, he remembers not expecting it. 

At first, he's flat on his back, and he thinks, shit.

Then he feels pain shoot up his leg until he's pretty sure his goddamn leg is going to burn off, and he almost screams out loud. 

He thinks he sees Hagan, and he snaps. 

"Get. Away." 

Hagan pulls back slightly, hurt, and then the medic is talking to Herman and he's getting lifted up and away. 

Pain and painkillers make him dizzy and the rest of the night passes in a blur until it's early morning the next day, and the doctors are talking to him. 

"We put your leg in a cast, it should definitely heal, but-"

"Why does it still hurt." 

The doctors exchange looks. 

"You've torn some nerves. With treatment it can be fixed, but-" 

Herman's stomach drops. 

"No. No, no. You've gotta be wrong. That's a death sentence."

"We've examined the results multiple times, and we're quite sure." 

"No..." 

Out of respect, at least they leave. 

For the first time in a while, Herman cries. 

His parents come in nearly half an hour later.

"Thank god you're alright-" 

"Did they tell you?" 

"Yes." 

"This is bullshit," Herman spits. "This is bullshit." 

"Anthony wants to see you, we could let him i-" 

"Don't," Herman snaps. "This is his fault." 

They leave that idea alone. 

"He's been waiting all night-"

"I don't care," Herman interrupts. "I don't want to see him again." 

"Alright." 

They ask him every time they come back, until they stop asking, and Herman is fucking glad that they do. 

-

"You're going to need a cane," the doctor comments, looking over his x-rays."

"Sorry, I'm what?" 

"Permanent damage. You're going to either have a bad limp, or need a cane permanently. You will when you get out." 

"I am not going to use a cane. I'm almost nineteen! What sort of fucking nineteen-year-old do you see walking around with a fucking cane?!"

"One with nerve damage." 

"Man, shut up. I'm not doing that."

-

The next day, they try to help Herman out of bed. He should be healing to the point where he can do some walking, with crutches, but every movement of his legs feels like fire, and he barely makes it a few steps before returning to the bed. 

"Doc."

"Yes, Mr Mendoza?" 

"The fuck were you saying about getting a cane?" 

"We have one you can use on hand." 

"Bet it looks like shit." 

"It's not an accessory." 

"No, but if I have to walk around looking like a fuckin' Bond villain at least let me do it in style. Okay?"

"Fine."

-

"Why did you want him to leave?" 

"I was mad at him."

"Mad why?" 

"Because he was supposed to block. He let that guy through." 

"And you think he meant to?" 

"I don't know," Herman says, defeated. "I thought he might have." 

"Why would he have?" 

"Fuck, I dunno. Because he found out about me? Because of Marina? I don't care, man. I just thought that I loved that idiot more than anyone else I'd ever known and he did this."

"Past tense loved, or present tense love?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think he feels guilty?" 

"I don't _know_."

"You didn't ask?" 

"Look," Herman snaps. "You're a fuckin' psych. You know how this stuff fucks you up. Gets in your head."

"I do."

"Then leave me alone about it. It ruined my life. And I thought it was his fault. That's all."

"So you're feeling a lot of mixed emotions." 

"No shit, Sherlock." 

"Unrequited love that ends in a feeling of betrayal." 

"You don't need to rub it in." 

"I'm not, believe me. Not everyone can infer what you're thinking. I need to make sure I understand what you're saying." 

"Fine." 

"So this was when your personality...changed." 

"That's a way of putting it. Sure. Yeah, I changed."


	11. Athene // Alalkomenêis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Αλαλκομενηις  
> Transliteration: Alalkomenêis  
> Latin Spelling: Alalcomeneis  
> Translation: ...protector

"After that, your records show you went into the police force." 

"I talked to Marina about Mindy, and we decided we both needed to get jobs. Marina went to college through the whole experience, and I applied to the Milford PD." 

"She went to college?"

"Community college. She finished her bachelor's after Mindy was born, then went to law school after we divorced. She works out of Dallas now." 

"As a lawyer?" 

"Yeah. Corporate." 

"Your records with Milford show few incidences of personal conflict." 

Hagan stiffens. "Why do you bring that up?" 

"The records often lie." 

"How would you know that." 

"There is not a lot that we do not know. I'm not getting information out of you, understand, I want to evaluate your mental state. And this particular hushed up fact seems like it might have influenced your mental state." 

"Alright. Yes, I didn't get along with my coworkers."

"And why do you think that was?"

"They didn't like me."

"You were polite to them?"

"Nothing but." 

"Your scores are excellent."

"First I've heard of that." 

"So what was a typical incident in this vein?" 

"How do I even pick one," Hagan comments sarcastically. "It started even when I first was in training."

-

Hagan is always the one to put in the effort. He shows up to training on time (early, in fact, 5:00 in the morning.) If there's an optional training session, he takes it. 

And he always does his best to be pleasant to others. 

That by no means indicates that the rest of Milford will be nice to him. 

"I saw the '97 state championship," the desk sergeant says, looking at the application Hagan has just handed him. Hagan stiffens. 

"Oh." 

"You know, maybe this training isn't the kind of thing for you. We don't pass half-asses." 

Hagan twitches. 

"Well. Then I suppose it's a good thing that I'm a hard worker." 

The desk sergeant looks at him, then puts the paperwork in a file. 

"We'll be in touch." 

- 

On day one of fitness training, Hagan remembers that he hasn't exercised since the '97 championship. And he remembers this because he realizes he's pretty out of shape. 

"You're going to need to work out," his boss snaps, and Hagan offers a slight nod. 

"Everyone get water. Except Hagan. Three more laps, half-ass." 

"What?"

"Are you questioning me?"

Hagan takes a deep breath and grits his teeth. "No sir."

"Go!" 

-

Thank god, since he's talked to his superiors about his situation (between Marina and Mindy, he needs to be home at some time) they let him go- but the times at which they let him go in the evening are variable. At least this once he gets out on time, at six. 

Getting out of the building first was hellish, though. 

In the locker room, Hagan changed quietly into street clothes while the other recruits stared. 

He's sure he hears "is that half-ass Hagan?" when he's walking out.

"I hate that name," he mutters to no-one in particular. "Who invented that?"

(If he's being honest, it sounds like something Herman would come up with, but the thought just makes him feel even more like crying.)

If people think someone can't tell when they're being talked about, they're sorely mistaken.

Hagan gets into his car, puts the keys in the ignition, and then puts his head on the top of the wheel. 

"Fuck." 

He really wants to quit.

"Why do they keep doing this." 

He bangs his head softly into the wheel. 

"Maybe I gotta quit."

And then he thinks about how a few months ago, his daughter was born, and he's coming here every day (and Marina is going to college) so that they can do something better for her. 

He has to do something better for her.

If he has to sit down and accept a few people reminding him of his worst self? It's worth it if it means she gets to advance. 

Hagan takes a deep breath, sits up, and starts the car. 

- 

"Your daughter was your motivation to continue." 

"Yeah. She was."

"You love her."

"Do you have children? Of course I love her." 

"Not everyone loves their children," the psychiatrist points out. "Your daughter is very lucky to have you." 

Hagan seems surprised by the latter portion of that comment. 

"...thank you." 

"Were you active in her life when she was growing up?"

"As active as I could be."

"As you could be?" 

"When I wasn't taking late shifts for the extra money."

"That's all anyone could ask of you."

"Is it?" 

"Well, yes. Do you want to talk about her? I imagine she's important to this conversation as well."

"I guess you're right." Hagan looks down slightly. "Marina went into labor in November of '97."


	12. Hermes // Mastêrios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Name: Μαστηριος  
> Transliteration: Mastêrios  
> Latin Spelling: Masterius  
> Translation: ...of searchers

"That's about when I started PT."

"Yes, that's what they would recommend for such an injury." 

"You know," Herman says. "I bet people wonder why I had it out for Hagan for so long. Well, I already was pissed with him. And I mighta cooled down, given time, and apologized. But y'all try being in constant pain for months and not holding a grudge." 

"It was a major injury."

"Yeah. And I paid every day for his little mistake." 

"Are you still mad?" 

"No. I get that that probably just sounded mad, but I'm not. I'm...mad at the situation. The things you wish you could change, huh?"

"How long were you in physical therapy?" 

"Years. Limp never went away until I got these babies." Herman puts one boot back up on the table. "Even then. Kept wearing an ankle brace."

"Yes, your file said that before contact with the suit of power you were subject to chronic pain at the injury site."

"You sound like Woody," Herman comments. "It hurts. That's all you need to get." 

"So physical therapy." 

"I had to get my family to drive me to a place in Ruby Lakes. Three times a week. Couldn't get a job."

-

"Careful. Are you still stiff in the leg?"

"Yeah," Herman mutters, as the perky blonde who's helping him ease out the stiffness from being in a cast for months stretches his leg. In another lifetime he might have jokingly flirted with her in the hopes of fake-dating her for a month or two to spite Marina.

The thought makes him a little bitter. Last he heard, they married, and they're expecting. His mother said it's a girl. He doesn't know if they've named it yet. 

He wishes he had a cigarette. 

"I'm going to stretch it the other way." 

"Go ahead." 

She pushes his leg the other way. It does hurt, but in the good way that getting less stiff does. Herman doesn't mind it. 

He's transitioned to using a cane instead of crutches since his cast came off, and now he just wears a brace.

Herman has always been an adventurous guy. Well...adventurous as in he wants to be more, do more, see more. 

Now what's he seeing? The shitty noise-absorbing foam on the ceiling of a strip mall physical therapy center in Ruby Lakes. 

Time undoes even the mightiest of creatures. 

He snorts. 

"Are you feeling that?" 

"Yeah." 

"Tell me when to stop." 

He waits a few moments, then gestures with one hand. "That's fine."

She lets go of his leg, and he sits back up. She puts his brace back on and hands him the cane, and he eases slowly off the table.

"Same time next week?"

"Sounds good."

"Don't overwork yourself, and do your exercises at home." 

Herman gestures. "Sure."

His mother is waiting in the car outside. 

"How'd it go?" 

"Fine."

"That physical therapist is cute." 

"She's fine," Herman replies flatly, as if to indicate he hadn't noticed. "Can we stop at the pharmacy?"

"Why would we need to do that?" 

"Picking up painkillers." 

"Is it already that time? I thought we did that last week." 

"No."

She shakes her head slightly and turns the car keys in the ignition. 

"I guess my memory's not as good as it used to be, huh? Well, we can do that. Do you wanna run in?" 

"Yeah." 

When they park at the pharmacy, Herman limps into the store and through the aisles. He can hear a child somewhere talking nonsense words. He turns to cut through the aisles and sees someone very familiar looking through the fridge. 

Think of the devil and he shall come, it's Hagan- looking at milk, and holding a child. The child- blond, green eyes, the image of Marina MacArthur- looks at Herman as if by genetic memory she knows who he is. She makes a small noise. 

"Okay, just this then we can get home to your mother." 

She makes another child noise. 

Herman almost freezes, but then he manages to hide in another aisle, and waits until he hears them leave before continuing on his way. 

He buys a pack of cigarettes before picking up his medication. He's going to need it.

-

"Why didn't you say anything?" 

"What the fuck would I have said?" 

"Anything would have done." 

"How do you know?" Herman snaps, before making eye contact with the psychiatrist, who has an all-knowing look in his eye. 

Herman sighs. "Yeah. Go up to your big crush, who you haven't talked to since he broke your leg in high school, because you see him in the fucking CVS with his daughter. Knowing that he's married and even if you can find it in you to forgive him, you can never have what you would want. Sounds like a genius idea."

"It's how people reconcile." 

"Fuck off," Herman says. "I had nothing to say to him."

"Are you sure?" 

"Nothing I could have said." 

Herman sighs. "How much more of this do we have to do." 

"Not that much more. Only a few more topics I'd like to request clarification on." The psychiatrist looks at his notes.

"Now. You were friends with Woodrow Johnson before the suit fell."

Herman snorts, amused. "Yeah. Woody. The kid's parents couldn't pay him a scrap of mind, so he became my problem." 

"Tell me about him. What was your relationship with him like?" 

"I picked up the kid by accident," Herman says. "I was out at MHS one night. Getting drunk. Found him under the bleachers, just lying there. The jocks had beat on him some and he just hadn't gotten up yet. So I did what anyone would do." 

"Which was?" 

"I bought that skinny son of a bitch a burger and fries and let him talk to me."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please, leave me a kudos if you liked it, or take the time to make a comment, bookmark if you wanna come back for more, or drop me a nice (or even inquisitive!) ask on my tumblr, @letthelazerteamlive. It really makes my day!


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